The Royal
by AmityWrites
Summary: Regina didn't plan to be married to the prince of her country's enemy. Kian didn't think he'd ever be dragged into a Selection. Gabriella didn't think that she'd ever get the life she deserved. Paxton didn't think she'd get the life she dreamed of. Life has a lot of twists and turns, doesn't it?
1. Chapter 1

Written and edited by AmityWrites

Chapter 1

Her brother had the most comfortable bed in the palace. She didn't know why Kian's bed was more comfortable than hers, but there was an inexplicable difference. And here she was for the fifth "meeting" this week with Kian. Regina watched with worried brown eyes as her younger sibling paced the room, arms resting on the top of his head. His steps were even and deliberate. Regina sighed, and pushed back a lock of brown hair as she bent down to pick up a paper she was reading. Her eyes followed the words, not making a sound, as she studied the document. Rules, regulations, and reminders were all it was about, but she knew what it meant.

"What?" Regina blurted out, bemused.

"Yes, I'm serious!"

"He's not even in line for the throne! Why the hell would he want to do that? Does he know what that means for you?" She lowered her voice to a whisper and her brother sat down, pulling her close. She breathed in the warm, sugary, almost vanilla scent. He smelled like Dad.

"Cass really wants to do a Selection?" She wondered again. Kian threw up his hands.

"Ginny! I've answered "yes" multiple times! Now give me advice like I asked you to…" He threw himself onto the bed and groaned. "Cassian just doesn't get it. He thinks he'll actually find love through this…game." His blue eyes darted to her's, locked for a moment, and it was as if they shared a silent, telepathic conversation. Pushing the document away, Regina ran a hand across her neck, massaging the slightly sore muscles. Kian felt the same way.

"I don't Kian. Every prince of Illéa has done it since…Well it's been a while since a traditional marriage. Maybe you could give Erendiria a try? Go on a date or something? She said she'd visit this summer…" Regina offered a solution hopefully, knowing her brother's opposition to the Selection. Kian only laughed wryly.

"The Italian Princess? Please Regina, let's take this seriously." Regina frowned. Kian was frequently enigmatic, and although he was realistic, it often got in the way of taking chances. "How about you do a Selection! We can-"

Regina held up a hand. If Kian thought she was going on with his plan to matchmake her in order to evade a Selection, he was horridly mistaken. "I thought we were being serious, Ki. I can't do that, not throw away my life!" She told him firmly, lips pressing into a straight line. Kian let out a cry of anguish.

"Gina, that's what I'll have to do if Cassian goes along with this! Mom and Dad will never-" Regina cut him off there.

"Kian, just talk to them! Please…" She begged.

"Gina," He started slowly, clenching his hands, then releasing. "You know how hard that is for me!"

"How are you going to address a country when you're _king_ , if you can't even talk to your parents? I can't be your messenger forever, Kian." She argued. The cloud of the heavy truth was still hanging over the conversation like a leech, sucking the energy and patience out of the two siblings.

Surprisingly, Kian was the first to say it out loud. "The attacks. They're getting worse. I don't know what to do. Perhaps, if I went along with this love game, they would buy Dad some time. He's running out of time."

"But, Kian, think about yourself for once!"

"I am thinking about myself, Regina. I am thinking about how guilty I'd feel if I had the chance to help keep my country happy and safe and totally ignored it. You know me, Regina Shreave. You know I can't do that to them."

Kian rubbed his forehead, as if he had a painful headache. "Thankfully, _you're_ the Heir. I'm going outside." He left without another word, shutting the door roughly. Regina was surprised. Kian hardly ever got frustrated, not at her especially. For him to walk out on her was odd. And his words. His words. What did he mean? "Thankfully, you're the Heir."

I'm the Heir. This is my responsibility. But it was just a distraction. When the Selection was over and she had tied the knot, would the new rebels continue their attacks, or would they subside.

Smoothing out her orchid colored dress as she walked out, she thought about telling her mother about what Kian had said. _Mom is very wise when it comes to sibling-related things_.

The tapping sound of her shoes hitting marble floor echoed through the long hallway that connected the royal family's bed rooms to the more recreational ones. Regina's was at the very end, but two doors before was her parent's. Quietly, she rapped her hand on the door, and her mother's song-like voice called for her to come in. Regina couldn't help but smile as she saw her parents sitting on the bed, holding each other affectionately. Maxon had his arm around America protectively, like she was his crown jewels. America was resting her head contentedly on his shoulder. Never, had the thought crossed her mind that they had ever been anything except in love. It made Kian's anger and Cassian's decision even more painful to think about. America was one in a million. Would fate be so kind to her brother's?

Inside, Maxon and America were reading the news together. A warm smile lit up America's face as Regina walked tensely toward them. Obviously, she had something to say, but before she opened her mouth, Regina thought over her words carefully.

"I don't think Cass should do the Selection," She started, going straight to the point. "Not if Kian has to do it with him. It's not fair! If Cassian is ready to take that step in his life, then that is fine for him. Kian doesn't want to get married, not yet at least. Besides, we should wait until the unrest in New Russia dies down. I don't think more chaos would be wise." Letting out a breath, she waited for her parent's to say something, anything. They gave each other a knowing nod, and then Maxon spoke. Regina noticed his eyes, although they were as healthy as ever, had a spike of worry as soon as she had mentioned Russia. Had things gotten worse?

For two years, New Russia and Illéa had been in a quarrel. They had tried to take over a small area of Whites, and in return, Illéa had shot down every last soldier that had stepped on the province's land. It was a rash decision on both sides, but neither wanted to give up until they made it clear to stay away from each other. Not only that, but the few Southern Rebels that still opposed the Shreave ruled country were escaping to New Russia to join their forces.

"That's a thought-out point, Regina, but if only Cassian did a Selection, it would confirm that he is in line for the throne, which he's not. You are, my dear." Her father's words always made sense, but sometimes she wished he wasn't right all the time. She understood his point. Putting Kian and Cassian in at the same time, seeing as they were twins, would tell Illea that they were doing it for love only, not a race for the crown.

"I just don't understand," Regina said softly, "It's like you don't care what Kian thinks about this. This is his life we're talking about! What if he doesn't find his own fairytale-love like you and Mom? Is he going to have to marry some girl he doesn't even like?" The king and queen were silent for a moment. They looked at each other worriedly, like they had a secret. Of course they had a secret, they always had secrets, being rulers of a country, but this wasn't Illea, this was her family's future.

"Regina," America said carefully, "This is a hard decision, but you know that sometimes, those decisions are necessary for the good of the people." She watched as her daughter ran a hand through her hair. The purple lace dress complimented Regina's personality impeccably. Regal, precise, and conciliatory. She had always acted like a queen, growing up knowing that was her destiny, but through the years of shaping the perfect qualities of an Illean queen, Regina had also developed a stone like hardness. It was a shell confining her to only the acceptable emotions, feelings, and duties of a royal.

"I understand," Regina answered firmly, standing up and leaving. Her face held a serene, placid look, but inside, she was fuming. Maxon reached out a hand to stop her. It was a gentle gesture, but all the same, it made Regina come back. "Is there something else."

"There is another alternative. I-"

There was an ear-splitting shriek, and Maxon's words were cut off.

"Amber!" He called, and Regina sighed. That conversation would have to wait.

The girl jumped as Regina slammed the door close and flung herself on the bed. Regina let out a frustrated, irritated, scream, muffled by the pillow in her face. "Regina, whatever is the matter with you? Are you in pain?" She caught eye contact with Etta, the maid-in training, and waved her off. Etta was sweet, but to pokey.

"Lukah, I don't know what to do! I'd do anything for Kian, but not this."

"Miss, I don't understand." Regina exhaled, trying to calm down. An asthma attack was not what she needed right now. Lukah pulled her up and embraced her compassionately. Regina let herself be sad for a moment, because Lukah would understand, Lukah would not ever tell.

"Cassian wants to do a Selection to subside the attacks in St. George and Waverly. He wants to distract the rebels and is taking Kian down with him. I don't want either of them to do that because-" Why? She hadn't answered that question herself. What was so bad about this? It wasn't her problem was it? "I don't know I guess. It just seems wrong. These girls will come in and try to seduce Kian, but all they want is the crown, I know it! Dad was lucky, but remember some of those girls Lucy told us about?" She shivered at the thought of Maxon Shreave being married to anyone but America. Some of them sounded awful.

"Darling, you don't know that!" Lukah responded, but not in any way that could be rude. Lukah was like that. She could insult the King and it would sound like a compliment; not that she would insult anyone. "Now, I'll send Etta to get some tea for you while I prepare you for the Report tonight. We can't have the heir to the throne be in tears on national television!" She tenderly kissed Regina's forehead, making her smile. Regina wiped away her tears and let out a giggle.

"You certainly keep me on my toes, Lukah. What would I do without you?" Lukah laughed, making her wavy brown hair bounce, as she lathered hair product in Regina's dark hair and ran a comb through it.

"Undoubtedly, wailing in front of Gavril Fadaye!" She giggled at her own joke and Regina playfully rolled her eyes.

"I was not wailing!" The girl laughed together like sisters and to Regina's relief, no one mentioned the Selection, Kian, or the Rebels for the rest of the day.

Note de l'autuer

This is the heavily revised version of the story that was previously on **EliseMoreya** 's profile. Because that story is part of our journey as writers, we are keeping it up, but the plot of that story is entirely different than what will be posted here. Thank you for reading! -AmityWrites


	2. Chapter 2

Written and edited by AmityWrites

Chapter 2

"…the riots in St. George, Waverly, and Baffin are inexcusable and heartbreaking. It is very saddening to hear about the country, the people, that I love fighting each other. As you know, King Maxon and Queen America have never been the people the stand around while our friends are hurting. Recently, I have been working with my parents on a program called First Relief. First Relief is a team of selected doctors, nurses, and security officials to keep the victims of these attacks safe and healthy. I reach out to you, not as a princess, but as a friend. Thank you for your perseverance through these hard times." Regina nodded towards Gavril as the room erupted into respectful applause. That went really well, She thought to herself, Not too many slip-ups. Her dress was black, appropriately colored to show her sadness and sympathy for the victims of the attacks. Second, black was powerful and intimidating. As she smoothed her dress and returned to her seat, Cassian reached over and touched her arm.

"They want a decision about it by next week so you can talk about it on the Report." Cassian informed her. Regina straightened and turned to him.

"Whatever do you mean?" She whispered back, eyes never leaving Gavril. The moment of hesitation put her on edge.

"Sorry, nevermind." With a nod, she dismissed the conversation, but as she adjusted her tiara, the words became a confused, jumbled mess.

A round of applause resounded again as King Maxon patted Gavril on the back and someone yelled "Camera's off!" Cassian and Kian quickly left, immersed in their own plans, but it took Regina a moment to stand. America walked over and rubbed her shoulder.

"Regina, your speech went wonderfully!" She congratulated, but seeing her daughter's emotionless stare, America's smiled faded. "Darling, what's wrong?" Snapping back into reality, she put on a tight-lipped smile.

"Just a headache, and a bit stressed. It's nothing really." She stood up and picked up her skirt. "I think I'll be in the studio this evening, so in case anyone inquires, that's where I'll be." She ran off before her mom could question her any longer.

Lukah was organizing the closet when Regina returned to her room and smiled. "How'd it go?" She asked curiously.

"Fine," she replied breathlessly, "I'll be in the studio. You take the rest of the night off, if you like." Lukah smiled, but shook her head.

"I have some mending to finish, if you don't mind…" She trailed off but Regina thought she had something else to say. "Shep thought he might take me out on Saturday night…" The pointe shoes hit the floor with a thump and Regina turned excitedly.

"You and Shep are going out? Lukah, that's wonderful!" Lukah's tan skin heated red as she blushed. Shep Oliver was one of the guards at the palace, about twenty-one, and very handsome. Regina and Lukah had shared girlish giggles over him many times, but Regina thought it was just to be silly. Obviously, she was wrong. Scooping up the pointe shoes, Regina couldn't stop smiling for Lukah.

"See you later than," Regina giggled and winked at Lukah.

Ballet was an outlet for Regina. She remembered her first lesson, the way the classical music rippled through her veins like a river. She loved the order of it. Hair had to be perfect. Technique must be impeccable. And yet, it all came together to become the epitome of beauty. She was five when America had first introduced her, and she hadn't quit since.

After an hour of pointe work, the sore, achy pain in her ankles and toes told her to stop. The door opened as she stretched her straddle. In walked her mother and father, hand in hand. Regina looked up and suppressed a laugh as Maxon winced.

"Our daughter's actually a piece of elastic." _Please_ , _Regina thought, this isn't even that bad_. America swatted his shoulder and leaned against Maxon. "Regina, there's something we need to discuss." As Regina watched their expressions change from contented to worried, she began to feel nervous, replaying what she had said on the Report. _I must have said something_. "You know that the voluntary soldiers and many of the drafted are up in Whites fighting back the New Russians, meaning that there are less to regulate the rioters in the midland. This…I don't want to call it a war, but for lack of a better word…against New Russia needs to stop, and stop soon, but Nikolai and I have not agreed on a resolution that benefits both countries." Regina pulled her legs to her chest and absent-mindedly picked at the worn pieces of thread in her tights.

"What are you saying?"

"We think it might be time for you to step in," America added. "Of course, it would be completely your choice; not mandatory, but it would greatly help you country, a service and sacrifice to your people." Regina nodded, waiting for more. America looked at Maxon for reassurance, then continued. "We think that if you considered marrying-"

"Wait, a Selection? Are you kidding? That won't solve anything, just distract people from what's really going on-"

"Regina," Maxon interrupted firmly. "That's not what we mean. You're right, a Selection won't solve anything, but an alliance would." Of course. King Nikolai Tsvetayev of New Russia had a son. What was his name? She had met him briefly, once before. It was when the two countries weren't allies, but they didn't hate each other either. A Christmas party maybe? But what did that matter?

 _Marry the prince of New Russia? Of course, I can't do that. I've never met him, I don't love him, I don't even think I could love him. Besides, it would put everything I know at stake. My family, my title, my inheritance. This was my life!_

 _But my country needs this. We can't go on like this, Illea and Russia, having spats in whites. People were dying, and I have a chance to fix it. This is my duty. There was a lot to consider._

"Can I think about it?" She pleaded, in a voice so small and fragile, she barely recognized it as her own.

"Of course, Baby," Maxon said, wrapping his arms around Regina. America sat down by her side, rubbing her back affectionately. "You know where only asking you this because so much is at stake. It's your decision, and we love you no matter what you choose." He kissed her forehead, and America squeezed her hand. Usually, these gestures would fill her with joy and warmth, the love of her parents making her feel cozy and safe inside.

Tonight, she'd never more numb.

The daily newspapers were always in Maxon's office, and Regina snuck in to read them. Technically, no one was allowed in here without the king's specific consent, but Regina never thought about that. The office had a earthy, natural smell, and high windows for security reasons. Curling up on the leather chair, she grabbed the first magazine, Illéa Today, and dove into the stories. All the articles seemed to be about the New Russia conflict, or the recent train station riot in Paloma.

 _Russia Threatens to Bomb Atlin_ , or _King Nikolai Declares War,_ were the most dramatic of the titles, Regina knowing the latter wasn't exactly true. Nonetheless, trouble was gaining on them fast. Illéa didn't have the militia and finances to ward off as large a country as New Russia much longer. Slowly standing up and reaching for a book on a dusty birch wood bookshelf, she found a history textbook. Flipping through the pages, she searched for the ways her father's predecessors had alliances with Italy, New Asia, and France. As she gained the secrets, her heart sank. They had all started by marrying off the princesses to princes.

 _Even if it would work, the Russian prince would never agree to it,_ she thought, and then shook her head. It was a ridiculous idea. But it had to. Everything counted on it. Her fingers traced the headline of today's Angeles Times.

 _RIOTERS SHOUT "NO MORE WAR" IN ATTACK ON RUSSIAN HOMES_

 _In a recent riot in Blackrock, Baffin, seven unknown youth rioters vandalize_

 _the home of Mikhail and Yelena Gradov, two immigrants from New Russia._

 _Although they are unharmed, the seven rioters desolated their home and farm,_

 _setting fire to their crops and pummeling their home with large stones and_

 _flooding their basement. That night, the couple heard the shouts against their_

 _homeland from afar, "No more war!" Although Mikhail and Yelena have not_

 _committed treason against Illéa, it provides an example for any Russian_

 _supporters throughout all of Illéa._

It was getting worse. Mikhail and Yelena was just one of many Russian immigrants targeted. Even Illéan born citizens were getting hurt. Messaging her forehead, she endeavored to think of a different solution. As the door creaked open, Regina watched a tall man with black hair walk in. She smiled.

"General Leger," She greeted.

"Regina, I didn't know you were here. I was looking for your father, have you seen him?" He looked around the room, but of course Maxon was nowhere inside. General Leger was a family friend as well as a General of the Illéan army. He had had a connection with America before she entered the Selection, but Regina didn't know how.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't. Can I give him a message for you?"

"Sure, tell him I just need to go over the security procedures before he leaves." Regina nodded, but as he shut the door, Regina tapped the desk with her finger, thinking. Leaves where? She gathered up her day's work in her arms and left the room, but her mind wasn't on budget cuts and strategies. There was a small solace in the gardens, where all was quiet and calm. There were no maids, bustling about, gossiping as they went. No guards to watch him as her walked down a hall. There was only himself, the flowers, trees, and blue Angeles sky above. Until dinner, she didn't move from there.

"Dad?" Maxon turned around.

"Yes?"

Regina folded her hands in front of her and put on a serious, matter-of-fact face. He had to know she felt convicted about this. "I think I should go with you-"

"Absolutely not, Regina Maxine. It's too dangerous right now." Regina followed close behind.

"New Russia, You have a meeting with Nikolai." Regina slowed down for a moment. This was her chance to change whatever was about to happen between New Russia and Illéa, and she couldn't bear to just throw it away. Still, the lingering fear of her own needs and wants hindered her from impulsively going along with the plan. Suddenly, her mother's wise words disrupted her contemplative thinking. _This is a hard decision, but you know that sometimes, those decisions are necessary for the good of the people._ This would possibly save lives, one's of her family and friends, and of her beloved citizens of Illéa. This was what she had been born to do, to serve the nation sacrificially. She knew she had to at least try. Regina took a deep breath to clear her head.

"Dad?" Maxon turned around.

"Yes?"

"I'll do it."

Note de l'autuer

Hello! Thank you for reading. We promise that the selection is coming! But context is important so please keep that in mind. As of right now, events that will happen during the Selection are unplanned to if you have any ideas (i.e. tea parties, etc.), let us know! We'd also love some comments and constructive critisms, so don't be shy!-EliseMoreya and AmityWrites


	3. Chapter 3

Written by EliseMoreya, edited by AmityWrites

-Two years later-

Lukah ran her hands down my arms as we said goodbye. I held her hand and she pulled me into a hug. I knew I was crying, and I couldn't stop it.

"Regina," Lukah laughed through her own tears. "I haven't even left yet and you're already a mess!" She wiped away a stray tear with her thumb and smiled. "You'll be fine. You can call and write and visit every once in a while!" I felt my heart drop as she said those words, "every once in a while," only reminding me of how far away I'd be. She hugged me again and put on a smile. "Go, Yasha's waiting. I wouldn't let a guy that good looking wait around for me, if I were you." With a wink, she took a step back and waved goodbye. Dad was waiting with General Leger, talking quietly.

"...worry about anything. Security is very tight and I will personally see she arrives safe and sound." They finished speaking as I approached and just like Lukah, Dad clearly faked a smile. I wrapped my arms around him and held on, wishing I would never let go. For the last time in a while, I breathed in the warm scent of his suit. There were really no words to be said, we just stared for moments. Before I wanted, General Leger announced that we had to leave. As I escalated the stairs up to the plane, I held my breath to keep from crying. I felt weak without them. I couldn't do this, I couldn't leave. My hand gripped the railing as I waved one last time to my family. Cassian had his arm on Kian's shoulder, who was holding Amber. Amri was bouncing and waving excitedly. Mom and Dad were waving too, his arm around her waist protectively. Lukah was by Zaid, holding him by the shirt to keep from escaping, and blew me a kiss. Then the door shut and they were gone.

Inside, I curled into a seat, hugging my knees to my chest. My eyes were trained on a spot on the floor. I was leaving, actually leaving. I had always wanted to see a different part of the earth, and now that I had the chance, I wanted nothing more than to go home. Turning my head, I watched Yasha talk with the pilot and General Leger like old friends. Already, the tensions between Russian and Illea had decreased, and Dad had become less worried. The people had mostly stopped targeting Illean-Russians and the overall happiness of the people had evidently seemed to increase. Even though everything was moving smoothly, I felt like I had a bomb placed strategically on my shoulders, and wrong move I made would set it off. A hand rubbed my back and I looked up to meet Yasha's blue eyes. He sat next to me and I laced my fingers between his.

My fingertips felt like electricity, making me smile slightly. Of all the people I thought I would rule beside, Yasha Tsvetayev would have been my last guess. Of all the people I wanted to be beside, Yasha was my first choice. And really, he was my only choice. Somehow, we were meant to be a team. The vibration of the plane taking to the sky awakened me from my thoughts. Yasha was eagerly looking out the window, reminding me of how much he loved being in the air. Leaning against his shoulder, I closed my eyes, letting my worries wait aside. Then, I fell asleep.

"Gina!" A voice whispered as I slowly woke up. "We're here." Here. Russia. My new home. Tentitively, I took Yasha's hand and followed him out of the plane. King Nikolai and Queen Natashya were waiting for him excitedly and he ran to greet them. Back in Angeles, the June air would have been blistering hot and dry. Here, it was...pleasant.

Natashya trotted over and kissed my cheeks. "Gina, so good to see you! How is your mother? Tell me all about your family, I want to know everything." I let out a surprised breath of air. I knew that Yasha's mom was very forward, but every time she talked so abruptly, it caught me off guard.

"Mom, she's probably exhausted," Yasha suggested. I mouthed 'thank you' to him. One conversation was saved. Once we were out of sight of his parents, Yasha held my hand and pulled me toward a stair case. "I'll show you our room."

I almost choked. "...Our room?" It came out more regretful than I had meant to. I probably sounded like a dying mule. Yasha's hand hovered over a doorknob, hesitating, before he turned it and pushed. I walked in and looked inside. Surprisingly, I found it kind of cozy. On the far side, the was a window that overlooked the gardens and forest. In one corner, there was a small fireplace and next to it a dark wood desk. I noticed a wardrobe and a closet, and a door leading to the bathroom. A set of French doors indicated a balcony, and I noticed the trunk of my things in a corner, waiting to be unpacked. I was speechless. Of course I knew that were expected to be close, but I was so unprepared for it to happen so quickly.

"Gina, look at me," I bit my lip and unglued my eyes from the floor. This was so awkward. "If your uncomfortable with this, I can sleep on the couch. I'm fine with that. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." His offer was generous, incredibly compassionate, but I knew that eventually, it would have to happen.

"Yasha," I whispered, pulling him closer, our hands meeting. "I think...I'll be fine. It's just so...I don't know, different, I guess. You know I love you, right?" His smile made my legs feel boneless. I knew I was whipped. Cassian was right.

He kissed me, and this time, I didn't fight it. Never had my decision to marry myself off felt so amazing.

"Yeah," He breathed out, "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

Written by AmityWrites and EliseMoreya and edited by Amity Writes

Chapter 4

Cassian threw his hands up in the air. "Listen, this is the only way we're going to meet people outside of royalty. Do you want to be stuck with Erendiria for the rest of your life," He laughed at the thought but Kian's face twisted into a scowl. Why did it always come back to Erendiria? Noticing Kian's frown, Cassian sighed.

"Kian, this is quite important to me. Can't you see that?" He folded his hands, trying to think of the words to explain.

"I-I just know that this is how it should be, how I want to find my soulmate-"

"Soulmate? What about me? I won't find my soulmate. I'd be lucky If I even found someone remotely likeable." Kian fumed, running his hand through his hair. They had one day to figure this out. Now that the problems with Russia were resolved, they could focus on the unrest in the provinces. Unfortunately, that hadn't been going well. While the reason was unclear, the dissolving of the caste had been going along steadily, but still, the people were unhappy. The Selection was Cassian's way of creating temporary happiness. Temporary happiness for him and the castes. Potentially eternal unhappiness for Kian.

He heard the phone ring outside of the room, the pounding of Amri's unladylike bounds and her shrieking, "Regina!" with Amber's shouts close behind.

Regina had sacrificed far more than her would ever have to by marrying Yasha. She gave up a chance to have a Selection, moved to the other side of the planet, and married a man she had only just met. Did she even love Yasha? No one knew, maybe no one would ever know. Her name wasn't even her own. Regina Tsvetayev didn't roll off his tongue the way he would have liked it to. It wasn't natural, and very forced.

She should have been Regina Shreave, Queen of Illéa, but she threw it away to save her country. Kian admired her.

"I'll do it-"

"Yes! I'll tell Dad immediately-" Kian put up a hand. There was no way he would do this senselessly.

"I have some conditions," Kian announced before Cassian could move a single muscle. Unlike his rambunctious brother, Kian had sense. "First, if by the time this game is over, I don't find anyone I can stand, I don't have to marry, but you can't take the crown. Second, I go through a screening process or the candidates so that I can at least pick out the murderers and obvious gold-diggers." Cassian thought about it, then extended his hand for a sealing handshake. Kian was slightly surprised at his brother's quick decision.

"Deal. Bradley, inform the king of our decision!" He called excitedly to one of the butlers who was preparing the table for dinner. Bradley nodded and took off. "I have work to do, even more now. And Kian, try not to think of this as torture, please." Then, Kian was left alone. There was no point in staying, so he left also. As Kian walked swiftly down the hall, he couldn't forget the decision he had made. His future, signed and sealed with the stamp of Illea, except for one small loophole. Amri and Amber scampered toward him with a phone in hand, and their nanny, Zoe, close behind.

"We just talked to Regina!" Amber announced, "She said you should call her back!" Amri chimed in. Zoe, a young girl of about sixteen, blushed and grabbed the two girl by the hand. As she shooed them away, Kian thought about calling right away, but decided against it.

Pulling open the handle to his room, he peeked inside. Fantastic, none of the staff had been cleaning. He dropped on to his bed and stared at the ceiling in thought. The Selection seemed more like a game to Kian than a chance. How in the world would he find his soulmate through a randomly picked stack of envelopes? How would he know which girl was "the one" as people said? What if she didn't even enter? His eyes evaded to his calendar, tacked against the wall. It was Friday, and Friday meant the report.

This was a disaster.

"Goooooood Evening Illea!" Gavril boomed vivaciously. "Tonight, besides our usual news reports from the royal family, we have an exciting announcement that will come at the end of the program, so stay tuned! Now, let's turn our attention, to King Maxon Shreave!" As Maxon confidently walked up to the podium to give the day's report on the recent riots, new programs, and revised caste situations, Kian fidgeted nervously in his seat. America reached over and patted his shoulder encouragingly, but it didn't make him feel any less anxious.

"Relax, darling." She whispered. "It's nothing you have to worry about. Just a speech, like all the others." Kian held back a sarcastic laugh. This was not just a normal speech. This signed and sealed his future. Once he got up there with Cassian to announce the Selection, there was no turning back.

"You never had to do a speech like this, Mom," He replied without thinking. America's smile faltered as she whispered back to him.

"That doesn't mean I didn't have to make tough speeches. The Caste Eradication Act wasn't your father's idea, you know." A smile return to her lips as she turned back to face Maxon, leaving Kian speechless. That wasn't the king's idea. How had it passed? Kian knew that as soon as his grandfather, King Clarkson, had died, the act had been put in place. Maxon and America weren't even married until two weeks after. How had he not known? What other secrets would he find out?  
Kian winced as someone kicked the back of his calf. Zaid, his younger brother, pointed to Cassian, who was starting to walk toward the podium. He nearly jumped up and followed. Hands sweating nervously, he gripped the paper in his hands.

Cassian started.

"Good evening Illea. Tonight, me and my brother are making a step towards our future. In the past, the princes of Illea have hosted a Selection to find their future queen. We believe that we should be no different." It was Kian's turn.

"Tonight, Cassian and I happily announce the 5th generational Selection to commence!" Kian tried to sound as excited as possible, and as the crown erupted into cheers, he hoped it was a sign that he was doing something right. "Right now, letters of participation are being sent out to every eligible family in the nation, and we know that seventy of those lovely young ladies will arrive here in two weeks. Thank you Illéa, for your support!"

Note de l'autuer

Hello hello! AmityWrites here, wishing you a happy Thursday and thanking you for reading! FYI this story is NOT a SYOC, so sorry to disappoint. Please leave a review or comment! -AmityWrites (and EliseMoreya but she's still at school aha)


	5. Chapter 5

Written and edited by _**AmityWrites**_

Chapter 5

"Can you believe all the responses we're getting already, Ki? It's crazy?" Cassian flitted though the various applications in his hand. Keeping three in his hand, he placed the other two in a large bag.

"Isn't this kind of…I don't know. The Selection is supposed to be random, but here we are, picking the one's we'd rather not have." Kian proposed. He opened another application. Gwyneth Rosette Knox. Caste 6. Skimming through the application, he decided she wasn't a felon and placed the paper in the "keep" bag. Adisyn Joan Marker. Caste 3. Not a murderer. Victoria Elaine Nitor. Caste 4. Not a murderer, but definitely not someone he would want to marry. He dropped it into the "dispose" bag. About one week had passed and the last of the applications would be coming in on Friday, two days from now. Two days, and the Selection would officially begin. It seemed like a long ways away and then again, it would come so fast. Two days- That was all. Across the table, America and Maxon were flipping through various applications, discussing some topic semi-serious.

America was almost furiously scanning through application after application, a slightly disgusted look on her face. Maxon on the other hand, looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"I still can't believe how your father rigged this thing. It was actually preposterous! At least not _all_ of these girls aren't like Celeste when I first met her." America shuddered, and Maxon actually did laugh out loud. Cassian and Kian looked up simultaneously, exchanging a confusing glance. America playfully punched his shoulder and continued scouring the applications.

"Mer, I am confident that our sons will make the correct decision. They are not six-year-olds anymore." He teasingly added, "Or are they." A laughing squeal suddenly erupted into the room. "Speaking of children…" As the red-headed twins bounded into the room, Maxon caught them in his arms, swinging them around in a rather unsymmetrical circle. As they were set down, Amber bounced up and down with a paper in her hands.

"Look! We wrote a letter to Regina!" Amber announced loudly, forgetting to use her inside-voice. Amri, the shyer, meeker, but just as spunky side of her twin, patiently held up another sheet of paper.

"I drew a picture! Zoe helped me with the words!" She explained. Maxon pretended to examine the letter and drawing like an art critic, stroking his absence of a beard diplomatically.

"Quite exquisite, I do say!" He concluded in the worst British accent anyone in the room had ever heard. The twins giggled as they showed their mother, then circled over to Cassian and Kian. Amri hopped onto Kian's lap and pushed away the stack of applications to make room for her masterpiece. While all of the six kids had learned to paint, play music of some kind, and dance, only Amri and Regina had any talent or determination to pursue their passion. At only eight years of age, Amri had turned out to be an exceptional artist for her age.

"Look! It's Regina dancing. I made her leotard purple, because she likes purple." Drawn in vibrant colors, the drawing depicted Regina doing ballet in a bright purple leotard, black tutu, and fuchsia pointe shoes. Although the colors were not as monotonous as Regina usually wore, it was nonetheless an accurate resemblance.

"Good job, Amri!" Kian replied, ruffling her hair. Amri suddenly became interested in the off-white document she had just pushed away. She grabbed on and broke the seal, opening it up. A picture of a girl with blonde hair fell out. Possibly, the photographer had caught her at the wrong time, but her head was slightly turned, and a contented half-smile breaking through. She was beautiful. Amri picked up the picture and placed it back on the document, dumping it into the "keep" pile before Kian could stop her. What was her name? Where was she from? Amri continued opening and sorting while Kian pondered these thoughts. So far, she was the only one that had caught his eye. What if she was the one, but wasn't selected.

"I'm going to take a breath of air. I'll be back soon." As he shut the door of the room, he passed one of the hallway phones, realizing he never called Regina back.

"Zdrastvuytye? Eto semeystvo Rossii Royale." _Hello? This is the Russian Royal family._ A professional female voice answered. Although it was most likely Ekatrina, Regina's maid, he wasn't sure. In broken Russian he replied, "Eta Kian Shreave, braht Regina. Mozhet pogovorit' s ney?" _This is Kian Shreave, Regina's brother. Can I talk to her?_ There was a crackle across the line and a small silent pause.

"Your Russian is hideous, Ki." Regina greeted, and Kian could almost see her teasing smile.

"Well, excuse me. I'm not in New Russia as much as you," He retorted, trying to stay quiet. This hall absorbed sound like a sponge. "Did you hear the news. The Selected are being announced in two days. I have no idea what to do! Cassian somehow convinced me to do this and now I'm up to my neck in applications for a future wife! And in 48 hours I'm going to be announcing 35 strangers to the public and promising to marry one of them! I-"

"Whoa, slow down there." Regina interrupted. "You don't want to do this? I mean I knew you loved Illéa, but not this much. Maybe there's a way out." She suggested. Kian ran his hand through his hair nervously. There was no way out. Even though he had made a deal with Kian, if he wasn't married by the end of this, the whole reason of calming down the castes would be for nothing.

"How did you do it? You threw away everything: your title, your name, your chance at love like Mom and Dad's, all for Illéa and your weren't even mad about it." Regina might have laughed on the other end.

"First of all, I was definitely furious about it at first. Second…I never gave up my chance at love. At first, I hated Yasha for obvious reason. I'm sure he felt the same way. Then, I don't know, something happened and it just clicked. He's at least tolerable." Although it was faint, Kian heard Yasha say, "Thanks, that's a nice thing to say!" Regina shushed him and returned to speaking. "Kian, please at least _try_ to like some of the girls. There's got to be at least one possible princess. I've got to go now. Love you." He heard a click and knew she was gone. At least try.

 _Could I try?_

"And we're recording!" The cameraman announced. The room was silent except for a couple camera clicks. Around the room, bowls brimming with applications. Each glass bowl was decorated with the provinces flower: Dahlias for Angeles, Cactus Blossoms for Zuni, and Forget-Me-Nots for Whites, along with the name of the province. Against one side of the room, Amri, Amber, and Zaid were leaning against the wall. While Zaid looked bored, Amri and Amber looked around excitedly. They were wearing matching blue dresses. Cassian glanced at Kian.

"You ready?" He asked. Kian exhaled shakily and nodded. "Just take one envelope out. It's easy."

Kian rolled his eyes. "Sure. Let's go." They had decided to go in alphabetical order, starting with Allens. Cassian reached in first and pulled out the first envelope, Kian following. They continued on, Baffin to Bankston. Carolina was next.

"Mom!" Cassian called. "It's your province. You do the honors." America laughed and picked out two envelopes, place one in each of their hands.

For the next few provinces, Amri and Amber chose the applications, and finally, Maxon picked out the last two from Zuni. It was finished.

"It's the night everyone has been waiting for. Today, Princes Kian and Cassian have randomly picked the seventy young ladies to join them in the palace here in lovely Angeles. Tonight, we experience the raffle of a lifetime. And now Illea, I present to you, the Selected." Gavril stepped aside as Kian and Cassian took the stage.

"Well, I'm sure everyone is excited, so I'll save the sappy speeches. Cassian, go ahead." Kian assured as the audience laughed. Just as soon as it stopped, everyone was tense as he ripped open the first envelope.

"Samantha Jetter, Allens." Kian nodded and opened his. He swallowed to keep his voice from cracking.

"Mercy Henderson, Allens." A couple seconds after each name was called, their picture was flashed on the screen.

"Liena Alter, Yukon…"

"Chanel Lindberg, Sota…" And so the reading continued Cassian finally finished with

"Emmaline Zhou, Zuni."

The competition had started.

 **** **Author's Note:**

 _Hello! Thanks for reading! We would love a comment or some constructive criticism! Thanks ;) -_ _ **AmityWrites**_ _and_ _ **EliseMoreya**_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Just because I'm a three doesn't mean I'm rich. That's what every Five and Six thinks, but it's the biggest lie the Shreave's have ever implied. Honestly, if someone outside of Hawthorn, Dakota came to visit, they'd think I was a Six.

The bell above the door clanked and jingled as I swung the door open. The smell of food made my stomach growl. I hadn't eaten since seven in the morning. Now it was six in the evening. From behind the counter, Janell waved. About four inches taller than me, and a puff of curls on her head, Janelle was outwardly intimidating. On the inside, she was as pleasant as a summer's day. She was holding my forest green apron behind her back.

"You've got thirty seconds to put this on and look busy before Quill notices." I laughed and hastily tied the apron around my waist and grabbed a pen and paper. It was Friday, which meant I would have to take produce inventory, and then work as waitress. Friday was the busiest day of the week, especially at the café inside the market, because of Janelle's premium chocolate cappuccinos, and because it was one of the few public televisions. Fours and under came from all around town to tune into the Report and sip warm drinks. Many were on the verge of homelessness or unemployment, but somehow, they always found a way to treat their family and friends to a treat on the bitter Dakota nights.

"Gabriella!" Someone snapped. I whirled around to face Mr. Quill, the owner of the market and café. He was scowling, per usual. Mr. Quill was scrawny and looked like a hobo, unshaven and uncombed, although he was possibly one of the wealthiest people in Hawthorn. With his unparalleled short temper and the scowl that was constantly plastered to his face, I sometimes felt sorry for his wife and Madelia, his daughter. "Late again?"

I gave an apologetic smile. "Bad traffic?" I suggested.

"You walk here. You don't even own a car!"

"True," I sighed. Quill tapped his pen against the stand of vegetables.

"You're lucky you're a Three. I didn't pay you to stand around and daydream! Get to work…" He sighed and turned on his heel, marching away. Janelle rolled her eyes as she pushed her dark ringlets into a bun. She nodded towards the stacks of produce.

"Better get crackin' before the Grinch gets back." I sighed and headed over to the produce stands, writing down how many heads of lettuce we had, how many apples we needed, and counted the cauliflower, one by one. I didn't hate my job, I just hated not having a purpose in my life. Every day I woke up at the same time, walked the same way to school, and worked the same job. Once I was finished, I asked Janelle if she need help.

"Just head over to the tables taking orders. It's oddly busy tonight. I feel like I'm missing something." I took out a pad of paper and a pen and wrote down the table number as I walked over to a dark-haired young man at Table 3. He had tan skin, not from the sun. Probably from Paloma.

"Hi," I greeted. "What can I get for you?"

"A job," He replied quickly. "Sorry, I just got fired today. Some Three was the top priority, I guess. Life of a Six, right?" He laughed it off. Maybe it he hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly, but he sounded disgusted. I nodded, but I was too tired to care.

"Yep." I agreed. Customer is always right. "Anything I can get for you, or are you just here to watch the Report?"

"A Janelle, thanks." I nodded. The locals called the chocolate cappuccinos "Janelle's" because she was the one that put them on the map. As I returned to the counter to place the order, the Illean National Anthem played.

"Good evening Illéa. Tonight, me and my brother are making a step towards our future. In the past, the princes of Illéa have hosted a Selection to find their future queen. We believe that we should be no different. Tonight, Cassian and I happily announce the 5th generational Selection to commence! Right now, letters of participation are being sent out to every eligible family in the nation, and we know that seventy of those lovely young ladies will arrive here in two weeks. Thank you Illéa, for your support!" My mouth dropped in surprise. A selection. After America and Maxon, everyone thought the Selection would be done for. After all, their first-born was a female, and what would they do then, host a male Selection? The thought was ridiculous.

Janelle shook my shoulders excitedly. "Are you going to enter?" She squeal as the crowded café broke into equally overjoyed sounds.

I scoffed. "No. I don't need the charity of some prince, and I certainly don't want to date, much less marry one of them." I snapped, filling up a mug of black coffee and handing it to a take-out customer. "Why don't you?" Janelle was beautiful, and more importantly, single.

"I'm too old. Sixteen to twenty. I'm twenty-two and will _surely_ die an old maid."

"Sure, Janelle. If you keep on avoiding Cullen…" I rolled my eyes.

"Even if I did enter, _which I will not_ , I'd never get picked."

"Famous last words, Gabri. You'd better watch your mouth." I sighed and shook my head, grabbing the mug from Janelle, and walking over to Table 3. As I handed it to the guy, he smiled.

"At least some girls will get a chance to help their family financially. I wish I had that."

I laughed, even though I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"The Selection. You know, the Selected gets paid by the week for being there. The longer you put on a show, the more they send back home. Along with the elevated social status…You didn't know that?" I was speechless. Put on a show, get paid, support your family.

"No…" He stood up and tipped an imaginary hat.

"I must fly, thank you for the coffee, and the company." As he left, my eyes followed him. What a peculiar man. I noticed table needing to be cleared and snapped out of my daze, turning to the table and taking the empty coffee mug. Under the saucer, a ten dollar bill was folded with a piece of paper, a single "M" written on it. This was no Six. I didn't know who it was and I didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

I slumped onto a chair and laid my head on the kitchen table as my mother washed the dishes. Her graying blond hair was tied behind her head, but she still was beautiful. The cup of tea in front of me was steaming, the streams curling as they disintegrated into the air. The tension between them was like a brick wall.

"Did you see the Report tonight?" Adelynn Biyen asked nonchalantly. I swirled my finger in my tea. I didn't want to talk about it. "Hmm? I said-"

"I heard you, Mom," I assured. "I just don't want to talk about it. We don't need the extra money right now. As soon as I graduate, Mrs. Duchey said I could take her place at the elementary school. I only have one more year-" My mom, wiped her hands with a red towel and sat at the table across from me, placing a hand over mine.

"Sweetie, I know your trying. But we only have your father's pension for one more month, and Sandy is being asked to join multiple music schools. It would mean so much to her-" Sandy, I hadn't even thought about Sandy. Sandy was my younger sister, eleven, and already amazing at cello. She had started early, the old cello was an heirloom from our grandfather. Being invited to attend a music school was a big deal, but I knew we could never afford it. Sandy knew we could never pay for her to go, but she never complained. I knew how much she wanted to be a performer.

Even a week would help. But could I stand a week with an entitled prince? Would I even get selected.

"Mom, I want to help, but it's a one in a million chance! I can't get Sandy's hopes up like that!" Mom massaged her forehead. I felt like a disappointment, and it made me feel sick. I was at war between myself and my mother. Giving Sandy her dream or keeping my sanity. "I won't do it. I can't…Sorry to be a disappointment…" I stood up quickly and ran to my room, shutting the door. As I pulled the covers of my quilt up to my chin and stared out the window, I watched a few people walk down the street. The streetlights flickered as raindrops fell. I shut my eyes and brushed away a tear. I hated fighting with my mother, but I was selfish and I knew it. Soon, sleep took over and I was too exhausted to dream.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I awoke to the pitter-patter of rain on my window and a heart attack as I realized it was already eight in the morning.

"Wait…" I sighed in relief. "It's Saturday!" I jumped out of bed and peeked out the window, despite the rain, there was an immense amount of people walking on the street sidewalks, and an unusual amount of motor traffic. What was going on? The smell of cinnamon toast intruded into my room as Sandy waltzed into my room, without knocking, while I was changing. A classic little sister move.

"What? I'm a girl too!" She replied, winking teasingly as she placed a piece of cinnamon toast on my bed.

"Get out!" I laughed, but I meant it. Once she left, I finished getting dressed for the weekend and ate the toast. The sound of the front door opening and muffled voices greeted me as I walked downstairs. My mom was dancing around the kitchen with Sandy, laughing and giggling about something. What was going on? Was there a holiday I was unaware of?

"Gabriella Schreave!" Sandy fell on the floor, literally rolling in laughter. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

"What's going on?" I asked. The room went silent, but not for long. Sandy jumped up joyously and ran over to me, grabbing my hand and twirling herself around

"You're gonna be a princess!" She sang, "Mom took your application and turned it in this morning! And she said that with the money they send back, I can go to a music school!" My mouth dropped in anger and surprise. She betrayed me. She turned it in even though I said I wouldn't do it. I ripped my hand out of Sandy's and glared at my mother.

"I can't believe you!" I shouted. Sandy's eyes widen at my sudden outburst and Mom sent her to her room.

"Gabby, you know I would never make you do this-"

I stood up, hands pressed to the table. Everyone in my family hated yelling, but I was…enraged.

"Mom! Can't you see I love my life here in Dakota? How can you ask me to leave Janelle and you and Sandy? You went behind my back and entered me in this competition without my consent. I don't even know what's more important to you, money, or your children!" I shouted.

"Gabriella Rena Biyen. It is because of you that I did this. You and Sandy! All I want is for you to be taken care of and happy and being able to reach your true potential. That's what every mother wants for their children and I can't give that to you, not here, not now…Please don't be mad…" Gabriella couldn't bear to think about leave, her home, and everything else she loved. Inside, a dark oily anger lit up in her chest against the princes. This was all her fault. Feeling hot tears trickle down my cheeks, sat down on my chair and rested my head in my arms, beginning to sob. "Gabby, darling, I did this to give you a better chance at life. If your father doesn't return by the end of the month, We'll be sixes again, not threes. We'll have to go back to my home town. Gabby, if you don't do this, we'll starve." My mother sat beside me, comfortingly stroking my hair. I felt terrible for yelling, but I was still mad.

"You could have at least asked me. I don't even know what I'm going into!" I sobbed. I felt cowardly for crying. My family need me to do this. But I wanted my marriage to be my decision. I wanted to fall in love.

"Gabby, they haven't even announced the winners. If you don't get in, we can at least say you tried."

"And if I do?"

"Then put on your best smile for those handsome princes." I sat up and wiped my face. She was right, and as much as I hated admitting it, it was true, I needed to do this.

"Don't they need a picture?" I wondered suddenly.

"I stole one from your room while you were sleeping." She answered. I slapped my hand against my forehead in anguish.

"Oh my gosh, Mom…" I moaned as she laughed at my response. "You're terrible." Upstairs, I heard Sandy singing in her room. I imagined her blond braids swinging as she twirled and sang, "Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match!" From one of the old musicals we learned about in History. I hoped my sacrifice would make her happy. When I thought about it, that's all that I wanted.

That same afternoon, I walked outside to check the mailbox. Janelle waved as she trotted forward, a smile lighting up her face. I knew what she was going to say.

"I saw your Mom this morning!" She chattered in a sing-song voice. I rolled my eyes at her.

"Janelle, I really don't want to talk about it…" I said, closing the mailbox. "We need the money, that's all there is too it. I'll stay for a couple weeks and then leave." Janelle shook her head as we walked along the sidewalk. By now, the rain had stopped, leaving puddles blotching the dips and cracks in the cement. Overhead, the sun was starting to show itself, but it was still cloudy for the most part. Janelle was chattering about her cousin from Kent who was getting married this summer, and how her Mom was working on her business. I wanted to pay attention to her, but I couldn't wrench my mind off of the Selection. What if I was picked?

Janelle snapped her fingers in front of my face. I blinked rapidly and turned my head towards her. "Darling, you've got your head in the clouds-" She stopped speaking abruptly and squinted her eyes at something a distance away. I followed her gaze but didn't see anything.

I asked her what was wrong and she hesitated. "I thought I saw someone hanging around your garden…Must've been a mirage." She shrugged, but I was curious, and slightly disturbed.

"Who was it?" I wondered.

"He looked familiar, but I couldn't pin point it. Honestly, I see so many different people from around here because of the café, I'll probably never know. Hey look! It's Stella and Amory!" Janelle's attention was diverted to two of the girls I knew from school. "Hi girls!" She waved as we passed them, stopping for a quick exchange of words about last's night's announcement. Stella was a tall girl with dark, chocolate brown hair, who was one of the smartest kids at school. Her father was a dentist in one of the richer towns, Glass Creek Valley, named after one of the canyons surrounding it. Amory was not very popular, but really sweet. While they gushed about the princes and the Selection, I noticed a strange look on Amory's face, as if she was already infatuated with Prince Cassian. I didn't understand how they could be in love with someone they had never met. I heard the church bell chime three and realized that Mom would need me home for chores.

"I've got to go, see you later," I said, hugging Janelle, and then Stella and Amory. "Good luck with the Selection," I smiled. "Maybe you'll be the next princesses." Stella and Amory laughed and shrugged.

"You two, Gabri!" They chimed together. When I arrived at my house, I passed the garden by our front window and stopped, remembering what Janelle had said. My eyes wandered the weeds and tomatoes, but it wasn't until I had almost given up that I saw a blue envelope. With excited hands, I grabbed it out of the weeds and ripped off the top.

"What's that?" Sandy questioned, running out of the house. "A love letter from the prince! "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more-"

"Shut up, Sandra." I rolled my eyes, tucking the envelope under my arm and heading towards my room to get some privacy. With a sister like Sandy, that was hard to come by. I flopped onto my bed and peeked inside. The contents surprised me, but the note inside was enigmatic.

Join the Selection and these will stop. -M-

Another note, and one hundred dollars from M. I didn't know what to do, except hide the money. The offer was puzzling, because whether I entered the Selection or not didn't matter if I wasn't picked. But if I was picked, I might have a week and then we'd be penniless. Not to mention, the note was creepy. I crumpled it into my pocket as Sandy burst in, blabbering about some sort of nonsense, but I didn't stop thinking about it.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I ran. I ran faster than I ever had before. Heart pumping rapidly, I tore across the field not taking a chance to look behind me. The steady rhythm of my booted feet skidded to a stop as I lost my balance and fell on the rocky ground. A quick, sharp pain rippled through my leg, but it wasn't major. After a couple seconds of rest, it didn't hurt. Hands covered in red dust, I exhaled deeply as he slowed to a more graceful stop.

"I win," I panted, letting out a laugh. Renato held out a hand to help me up. "You were close though."

Ren rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. We had made it to the top of the Claridad Mesa, one of the many canyon tops in rural Zuni. The name of our town was a word from a language that didn't even exist anymore, and to get here, you had to travel three hours through the canyons and mountains and deserts, but we had the most gorgeous landscapes in all of Illea, we were convinced. Up on Claridad Mesa, the view lived up to its name. Clarity. We could see for miles, and the cloudless sky made the vast desert look bright and alive.

Ren and I sat up on the peak with our backs resting against a large rock. A couple miles out, we could see the main highway teeming with tiny cars. Only the whispering wind and the occasionally condor's crow were to be heard for a few minutes. And then Ren finally spoke up with a crack in his voice and the tension between us breaking.

"What if you get drafted?" He wondered, watching the motionless mountain.

"Don't say it like that," I pleaded, "You know I don't want to leave you or anything I have here, but next year I'll be eighteen, and I can't spend the rest of my life working as a cleaning maid for a Two. Even if I don't become princess, at least I can say I've been out of Zuni." Ren bounced his hands on his knees, anxious or angry, I couldn't tell which.

"I know, and I support you with that. But what if you leave and never come back? You and one of the prince's fall in love and you become a One, and you never get to come back home. What about us? We'd miss you…" Ren wasn't my only sibling, but I knew he and I were closest, and when…if I left, he'd miss me the most. I would miss him too, but I was a sacrifice I was willing to make. To see my full potenial without being kicked down because of my caste was all I ever wanted.

"I guess tomorrow we'll find out what happens." I replied quietly. Motionless Mountain watched over us as we rested beneath the Palo Verde tree. As the morning sun breathed out hot rays, we headed back home.

"Paxton! Renato! Papa wants you!" Taci shouted as we walked through our wooden gate. She was hanging up clothes on the clothes line to dry, her black hair and faded pink dress drenched with water. I didn't even want to know what Halian, our little brother, had done this time. I didn't see him with the chickens, so I assumed he was in trouble. Papa met us outside the barn as we walked up, his greying black hair shiny with sweat.

"Good climb, _chawe_?" He asked. We nodded and he handed off the reins of our horse, Nora. "Nora needs to be in the east pasture. Renato, come with me." I walked Nora out of the front yard and turned east to head towards the east pasture. Our family were farmers of some kind, but we were mostly self-supported. My mom, or Tsitda in the Zuni language, gardened, gathered, and cooked our food herself. Papa farmed, hunted, and raised animals for food and blankets. The only things we bought were clothes and a couple miscellaneous items.

If I was selected. Everything would change. I would rely on others to do everything for me. I wasn't sure if I liked the thought of that or not.

"Paxton!" Taci shouted, "The Report is on!" I felt and adrenaline rush as I locked up the gate and raced inside. Taci, Halian, Ren, and my parents were sitting on the couch as I burst in. Even my grandmother had set aside her chores for an hour to see if I would be selected. I sat on the wool rug, tapping my foot nervously as Gavril and the twins gave short speeches. Finally, they started listing the Selected. After a couple provinces, I realized they were going in alphabetical order. Of course Zuni had to start with a "Z".

"From Tammins, Alexandra Margan and Gwyneth Knox." The faces of a girl with short brown hair and a girl with vivacious red curls was displayed on the scene.

"From Waverly, Kelia Van Stefan and Giselle Jagdale." Both of these girls looked rich and intimidating, but I wasn't surprised. Waverly had always been an entitled and wealthy province.

"From Whites, Jessamine Walsh and Cher Hayward." These girls weren't as scary. Jessamine was gorgeous, like a delicate teacup, I said to Ren. "You're terrible at analogies," was all he replied.

"From Yukon, Kira Nacker and Liena Alter. And finally, our last province, Zuni. The Selected are Emmaline Zhou…" Cassian announced, and then the room was silent as Kian struggled to rip the seal off the second envelope.

"From Zuni, Paxton Salvatierra." Our living room burst into high-pitched screams and rambunctious cries of excitement and happiness. I was so surprised I could barely think. I was a Selected. I was going to Angeles to meet the royal family and have a chance at something other than being the only Six at school. I would leave my family and my home and my province to experience the unknown. I didn't know what to think or what to feel. The only way to describe it was raw emotion. I wanted to feel like this for the rest of my life.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Two days after that unforgettable day, two smartly dressed women with the Illéan Royal emblem sewn to the side of their dresses arrived at my house. The first was a tall woman with black skin and stylish puff of frizzy black hair. She seemed to be the one in charge. Her assistant was a shy, quiet girl, wearing a blue dress with sparkling rhinestones adorning the collar.

"Congratulations, Miss Salvatierra. My name is Mayzie and this is Jennifer. I'm here to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself, and Jenny is here to make you stunning." She explained. Looking around, she noticed Taci and Halian peeking through the kitchen door. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask everyone but Mrs. Salvatierra and Lady Paxton to stay out of this room. Mom shooed my siblings out of the room. Jennifer instructed me to stand up so she could measure me for a dress. While she was measuring, Mayzie handed me a sheet of paper with basic rule of the Selection on them. I studied each one carefully, knowing that one slip-up could be the end of me.

"The contestant cannot leave the palace on her own accord. She can only be dismissed by the prince himself." That made sense. Security issues, most likely.

"The contestant cannot arrange her/his times with the prince. If in a large social setting, this rule does not apply. The contestant can only have a romantic relationship with the prince. If the contestant is caught in a relationship with someone else, it is considered treason and punishable by death. If the contestant is found breaking any of Illéa's written laws, her punishment will be tied to that offense." Although these were reasonable, I wondered about the later. It didn't seem fair that the prince would be able to date thirty-five girls at once, but the girls were not. I knew I wouldn't have a problem with that though. In my opinion, no one was more handsome than Prince Kian.

"If the prince invites the contestant to do something with him, it is advised she/he shouldn't refuse — regardless if it's dinner, outings, kissing, and even more than kissing" The last one was the most concerning. I hoped that Prince Kian was as gentlemanly as he seemed on the Report, but one would never know. Even though I didn't tell Mayzie, I promised myself that that was one rule I might have to break, no matter the consequence. As I handed the paper back to Mayzie, she added one more.

"You may date the prince that selected you, and only that prince, no matter what. It's a new rule, because of the double selection. Anyways, tomorrow…" My mind trailed away in though as Mayzie continued with her talking. The plans for tomorrow seemed straightforward, but I was still nervous.

The day of my departure came much too quickly. That morning, Mayzie and Jenny arrived at eight to get me ready. My dress was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. Sleek, soft fabric was decorated with twinkling rhinestones, cascading down the lavender colored skirt. The bodice had a strip of the lavender fabric as the shoulder straps. Heavier than I thought, I couldn't stop spinning in the mirror. My hair was done in an elaborate braid, with the Zuni Province flower, a Saguaro Cactus Blossom, tucked into the base of the braid.

As a car pulled up to the house, I hugged my family tearfully, and waved goodbye as we left. As my house faded into the distance, I could hardly feel my fingers, numb with the realization that I was on my own now. The car sped past Claridad Mesa and all the rocks and cacti and vast desert landscapes that I had ever know until we arrived at an airport at the edge of Fennley.

"You'll be joining the girls from Sumner, Sonage, Tammins, and Fennley on the plane to Angeles. It should be a short flight." I nodded, looking around as the city we were approaching became larger and larger, the traffic more dense, and the noise more exciting. When I stepped out, I was blinded by camera flashes, and the banter of the crowd was deafening. I couldn't believe they were cheering for me, but scattered among the crowd were a couple signs with my name written on them. "Princess Paxton," or "Win for Zuni!" Mayzie pat my shoulder and gestured towards the walkway between the crowds.

"It's time for me to say goodbye. Just follow the path to the plane, and say hello to some of your fans if you want." She held out a hand for a farewell shake, but I couldn't resist hugging her.

"Thanks for everything, Mayzie," I said gratefully. She seemed surprised, but hugged me back. Then she entered the car and disappeared. The other girls were just arriving, and I recognized a few. I recalled one girl from Sumner, Cierra Fleet, and the other girl from Zuni, Emmaline Zhou. Cierra was dressed in a flowy gown with a golden yellow color matching her province's flower, Goldenrod. Her hair was a light blonde, and the yellow made her skin look becomingly pale. Emmaline Zhou was tall and slender with a radiant yet reticent smile. Her almond shaped eyes were a dramatic, deep brown and her hair was smooth and silky, hanging naturally across her shoulder. As she walked over to introduce herself, I wondered if I should be intimidated or friendly.

"Hi, I'm Emmaline, but you probably know that already."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Paxton," I introduced as we started to walk forward. As the walkway gradually became narrower, there was no chance that I could evade the crowd. I didn't expect to actually have fun taking pictures and signing autographs. I was the first one to arrive at the plane, while the other girls were still signing autographs. A reporter gestured over to me and a camera turned its lenses in my direction. I recognized "The Report" on the side and knew this would be streaming live. A reporter with dirty blond hair and an enchanting smile walked over.

"And here we have Lady Paxton Salvatierra from a small town in Northeast Zuni. Lady Paxton, what's it like being so far away from home already?"

I waited for words to come, hoping I looked as excited as I felt. "It's been overwhelming and incomparable. This morning I was surrounded by the desert and the mountains and this evening I'll be at the Palace. I really have no words to explain it!" I replied, clenching my hands to keep away the jitters.

"And what do you think of your competitors?" Competitors? I hadn't thought of them that way until now. I had only met one of them.

"They're all lovely ladies. I can't wait to get to know them more personally!" I hoped that was good enough. I didn't have very much information. Thankfully, three of the other girls arrived and the reporter left to meet them. "And here we have ladies Teagan McKechan from Fennley, Paisley Draydon from Sumner, and Cierra Fleet from Sumner. Cierra, you came from the prestigious Academie d' Jolie, so why did you give up your studies for the Selection?" Everyone in west Illea knew about the Academie d'Jolie, one of the best schools in the country.

"First of all, I did not give up my studies, rather, suspended them. If the Prince sends me home, I will most definitely return to my education. As for why I left, the answer is simple. I want to live my life to the fullest, and to waste this opportunity would be like murder to the soul." I found her language fascinating, the way she spoke was so articulate and captivating, like she was already the queen. I wanted to speak like her and walk like her and have her finesse and prestige.

But she was Two, and I was a Six. She was brought up under the safe wing of wealthy parents, an impeccable education, and opportunities as far as the eye could see. My mother cleaned houses when she could, and my father was a herder. My education was what my poor, unqualified teachers could pass on. While I had the entire Sonoran Desert in my backyard, that was all I had. Until now.

"Lady Paxton," Someone said. "Are you ready to board?" Yes, I thought. I'm ready.


	10. Chapter 10

Written and edited by AmityWrites

Chapter 10

"Can I sit here?" I asked a petite girl with short, wavy brown hair. She smiled brightly and patted the seat.

"It's all yours. I'm Francesca, never call me Franny. You're Gabriella, right?" I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm Gabriella, never call me Gabby." I mirrored and she let out a buoyant laugh at my sarcastic comment.

We had arrived at the Palace about two hours ago, and the first ninety minutes were spent over makeovers. Aparently, the princes had requested no drastic changes to appearances, which I was thankful for. My hair was still blond, and although the eye makeup they applied didn't change my eye's plain brown color, it amplified my facial features. I noticed that a couple of the sixes could definitely use a haircut to say the least. While I was sitting in the chair, I studied my competition and wondered if they were doing the same. Jocelynn Keith, a skinny blond from Dominica, and Giada Rosales from Atlin, who was the reincarnation young Princess Nicoletta, statuesque, golden-skinned, and coffee brown hair. I had seen her on a couple of the magazines from Illéa and Italy, and wondered if she was here for an alliance or a popularity booster. Both girls stared me down and sized me up like a piece of meat.

Outside we could hear the staff bustling to organize, deliver, and unpack our luggage. The Selected were in a wide, airy room with large windows, marble floors, and dazzling ceilings. Our "teacher" Silvia, and her assistant and future successor Antonia, called it the Great room. I looked around at all the girls in the room and only recognized a few of them. A girl with bouncy black curls and dark skin, Lillian Holloway, was seated next to Helena Wyman and Aaliyah Ramsy. Helena looked plain and uninteresting, but was pretty enough. Aaliyah had a defined face with mysterious, calculating eyes that contrasted an amiable smile. Her hair was thick and dark and messy, but she was able to pull it off and still look gorgeous. All three flew with me to Angeles. Lillian was from Calgary, Aaliyah, Dakota, and Helena from Denbeigh.

A sharp, distinct voice split though the chatter of seventy girls like a knife through bread.

"Good afternoon, ladies. My name is Silvia, and I will be your instructor, so as you don't make a total fool of yourself in front of the Royal family and all of Illéa. But, I will explain that later. Now, you will each meet the prince that picked you, one by one, until he dismisses you. May I remind you of two rules: first, you may not date the prince that did not select you and second, the prince makes the dates, not you. Let's begin." Antonia stepped forward, wearing a simple celestial blue dress with an A line skirt.

"First up, we have the girls from Bonita, Finley Navi and Rowan Helbring. Prince Cassian is in the door to the right, Prince Kian to the left." Two girls stood up, one with tan skin and brown hair, almost the same color, with a magenta orchid in her hair, and a dress that looked like ocean waves. The other had wavy golden blond hair and flaunted a tight but classy burgundy dress.

Antoina gradually inched through the provinces, in no particular order.

"From Lakedon, Honora Redmond and Lydia Kincaid."

"From Sonage, Alera Lester and Saylor Mayman."

"From Denbeigh, Francesca Shadwick and Helena Wyman." Francesca squeezed my hand and let out a little squeal before hopping to her feet and exiting to the door on the left. Thank god I wasn't competing with her. She was growing on me. I whispered good luck as she waved.

"From Dakota, Aaliyah Ramsy and Gabriella Biyen." Sitting straight, I realized my name had been called. My hands felt restless. I was nervous, and I hated that. Prince Cassian was just a guy, like any other. That was what I tried to convince myself. I opened the door and I was face to face with a possible heir to the throne.

Cassian was no doubt handsome like his father. His hair was brown, wading towards red like Queen America's. He held himself with confidence and debonair, but was also approachable.

"Good afternoon, Lady Gabriella." He greeted. I walked forward, and couldn't help but smile.

"Hello," I replied, not entirely sure what to say to a prince, but I was willing to fake it until I make it. "How are you?"

"Wow, someone who isn't entirely focused on their selves. It's like a breath of fresh air. To answer your question, I'm feeling much better now, thank you." I blushed at his smart comment, trying not to laugh.

"I never knew the Prince of Illéa was so sassy. You'd better watch out, or they'll crown you Reigning King of Sarcasm." No! No, please tell me that was just in my head and not out of my mouth. I did not just say that to the Prince of Illea. But alas, the words were out in the open, and the Head Guard was suppressing a pathetic laugh. Cassian bit his lip to keep from letting out a laugh. I felt like a fool.

"Well, all I can say is that you're unique. It's been a pleasure, Lady Gabriella." I curtsied and rushed out of the room as a guard opened the door for me. Antonia called out, "Lucille Gallow and Aubrey Kemp from Belcourt." I waited for another thirty minutes until everyone was finished. The last person to leave the rooms were the girls from Hansport, Sage Irving, a timid, shy little thing, and Melanie Gangler, who flaunted whatever she had. Antonia quickly gave us room numbers and announced the girls that would be rooming together. This came as a surprise to everyone, but the only girls who seemed to care were Lucille, Alera, and Jocelynn.

I walked into my room and held back a gasp as I took everything in. A lush comforter covered a bed that was large enough for two was in one corner, and identical on the other side. Two large wardrobes stood to the right of the bed, with a quaint yet elegant nightstand next to it. Three girls dressed in plain black dresses and beach white aprons entered in from what I assumed was the bathroom.

"Good afternoon miss. Are you Lady Francesca, or Lady Gabriella."

"I'm Gabriella-wait, Francesca is with me?"

"Yes, didn't Antonia explain the arrangements, miss?" The oldest one wondered. She was tall and looked more like a gymnast than a maid. She was physically strong.

I shrugged. "I guess I wasn't listening closely. And you don't need to call me miss, just so you know." The girl in the middle scrunched her eyebrows like it was the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever said.

"Then what shall we call you, miss?"

"Gabriella? Like, my name? And what are your names by the way?"

The three looked at each other excitedly, sharing some secret conversation that only they could understand. "I'm Grace, and this is Marie and Lara. Marie is fourteen, I'm twenty, and Lara's our little tag-a-long. She's twelve, and mute." I nodded, smiling. They seemed so young to be working at the palace, but obviously knew what they were doing because the room was spotless. I lied down on my bed as Francesca entered the room, already chattering about the girls, princes, palace, and everything in between. I hoped I stayed as long as Francesca; I didn't want to leave her. Closing my eyes, I thought about everything that had happened today, and still couldn't believe I was here. Apparently I fell asleep, because I was awakened to the sound of screaming.


End file.
